Jarin and Tarina: A How To Train Your Dragon Spinoff
by GBJackson
Summary: The battle of Nartara has been won and it is time to rebuild. Many challenges may arise, but love and family will rise higher.
1. Chapter 1

_I neither own nor claim any rights to How To Train Your Dragon..._

* * *

 **Jarin and Tarina:**

 **A How To Train Your dragon Spinoff**

 **Chapter 1 – First Morning**

Jarin awoke with the sunrise in strange surroundings, but it only took him a moment to remember where he was: In bed with his new wife, Tarina, Daughter of Gelbrun and the new chief of Nartara. He rolled over on his side and watched his wife sleep peacefully. Were it not for years of waking with the dawn, both as a farmhand and a Rider of Berk, he would probably have still been sleeping as well. But those habits now granted him the privilege of watching his wife sleep.

As consciousness fully returned to him, he could not help but remember the events of the previous day. It had been a great celebration, of both the victory against the Dagur and his attempt at claiming control over Nartara, and the wedding of Nartara's chief to him. As joyous as the day was, it was nothing compared to his first time making love. The fact that his wife was also experiencing it for the first time made it all the more wonderful. For it was something they had only ever shared with each other, and that held a deeper meaning for both of them than any other momentous event in either of their lives. Before that night, the most wonderful experience he had was experiencing the Dragon Bond with Shadowhorn, his Majestic Flamescale. That too was an experience he and his wife had shared, though he had never heard of it happening before.

Presently, Tarina moaned and turned towards him, a blissful smile on her face as she opened her eyes. For a moment she drew back in shocked fear at finding someone in bed with her, but in an instant the fear was gone, replaced with joy as she too remembered what she and her husband had shared the night before. The fear was due to the horrifying state her home had fallen into during the years of her father's lapse in sanity. When people have no hope, they tend to stop caring and surrender to almost animalistic behavior. Rape and murder were commonplace, even among higher-class citizens. That changed when she arrived home with Berk's ground warriors and the air support the Riders of Berk gave them with their dragons. With her asserting herself as chief, hope was restored, and people started to care about the future again.

Berk still maintained a presence in Nartara, three days after she officially became chief. She had formally requested it from Stoick the Vast, Chief of Berk. She wanted to make sure that order would be maintained while she appointed people to positions held by individuals whom the Mad Chief, her father Gelbrun, had eliminated before he regained his senses. Her village was in such a sorry state it would likely take years to fully recover. It was fortuitous that she found a logistics genius among the populace, a woman named Raenick the Frugal. She would be instrumental in restoring Nartara to her former glory. Already, Nartara's grand navy was restored with the return of Admiral Jorgan and the fleet he took with him when he mutinied against her father. And Jarin, her wonderful, gentle and loving husband would also be of great help. During the coup, he had shouldered a great deal of the administrative burden while she did what she had to do to be an encouragement to her people who had fled from Gelbrun before the battle.

All things considered, even though there had been losses, things had turned out far better than she had hoped. Her father had regained his sanity before she could confront him, avenged the death of her mother and brother, and ultimately abdicated his authority to her without contest, and was even a major player in the defense of the refugees he had declared an intent to kill not long before. If there was any sad point she could hold onto after the victory she had enjoyed, it was that her father, while having recovered his honor and sanity, had chosen self exile from Nartara, which she had to enforce to make sure that justice was done in a way that addressed the crimes her father had committed while also adhering to his requests as a reward for the role he had ultimately played in saving Nartara. No matter what he had done, her father whom she had loved so deeply in her childhood, before the death of her mother and brother, had come back to her, and a day later was gone again, never to set foot on the shores of Nartara again. It hurt, but she would be able to live with it. It was meant to be.

"Good morning, love," Jarin said with a lop-sided grin. "Did you sleep well?"

"Very," she said with a grin of her own, her expression turning mildly seductive. "Someone wore me out."

Jarin laughed. "I haven't slept that well since I was a kid. Falling asleep in the arms of the woman I love is very relaxing. And restorative. I cannot remember the last time I woke up feeling this invigorated."

Tarina continued to smile at him. "I feel the same way. But we really need to get up, out and about."

Jarin had no argument for that point. They got up, dressed in fresh day clthes, and within the hour strode into the great hall, where most of the village and the ruling family of Berk were gathered for the morning repast. They approached the head table, holding hands and smiling. A sight which prompted applause from the Nartarans who were present. The sight of their chief who had restored hope to them, smiling and happy herself, was in and of itself joyous. Especially now, with the dark days behind them.

Stoick the Vast stood from his place at the nearest side-table and nodded respectfully, as one chief to anothher, and his son Hiccup followed suit though his nod was closer to a shallow bow, as his status was less than a chief, but not low enough to warrant the deeper bow which Astrid and the other riders gave.

Tarina flashed them both with a friendly smile as she held up both hands. "Please, my friends," she said, addressing Stoick directly. "Nartara owes the people of Berk a debt of gratitude. Were it not for your support, and the help of your son and the other Dragon Riders of Berk, this glorious new day would never have dawned. I hereby declare Berk free of all requirements of formality, and welcome any of its people to Nartara at any time."

Stoick did bow formally this time. The honor the new Chief of Nartara had just paid him and his tribe was rarely extended to any foreign tribe. So he bowed to her not out of obligation of protocol, but because it pleased him to do so, "Thank you, Chief Tarina," he replied. "Berk hereby returns the honor by declaring any citizen of Nartara equally welcome to Berk, also free of any requirements of formality."

The entire assembly in the Great Hall erupted in cheers and applause as the highest-level of peaceful accord was announced between the two sovereign tribes. It was then that Toram, the captain of the Nartaran guard, stood. "Chief Tarina," he called. "I have something I want to show you... Everyone, actually."

Tarina turned her attention to Captain Toram. "By all means," she said,

Toram looked up into the rafters, and everyone else in the room followed his gaze. There were two soldiers perched on the rafters, with daggers drawn. "Baelir... Gurdy... go ahead,"

In unison, the two guards cut the cords holding the large blood-red Nartaran banner depicting a Monstrous Nightmare skewered by a sword suspended above the open space in the middle of the horseshoe arrangement of dining tables. The banner fell to the floor with a flop of heavy cloth. Immediately after, they cut cords that were keeping what was clearly another banner rolled up. As it unfurled, the people began to cheer again. The new banner was golden with the image of a Majestic Flamescale, as nightmares had come to be known, with its wings upraised in what looked like victory, but its eyes were closed and its face was upturned towards the heavens, made it clear that the wings were raised in praise,

Jarin's mouth fell open, and tears leaked from his eyes. The new banner of Nartara, he knew, was depicting one of the most feared dragons, once despised and tortured by the previous chief, offering reverent praise to whom that same chief, after regaining his honor, had referred to as the Creator of All. Jarin turned to regard his wife, and saw that her eyes were also filled with tears. And she looked back at him with the same expression that was on his face.

"People of Nartara," she called, and every eye in the room was on her. "On this day I declare that Nartara, like Berk, to be a dragon-friendly society, and as soon as immediate needs are addressed for all its citizens, my husband, Jarin, will assume the role of First Rider and lead instructor of the Nartaran Dragon Academy. From this day forward, let no weapon of Nartara ever again be raised against dragonkind except in the most extreme of circumstances."

Jarin nodded. Most dragons were docile by nature, but that did not make them by any means less dangerous if they felt threatened or when defending their young or their mates. And some dragons in the wild were prone to aggressive tendencies. Bad encounters were bound to happen, and unfortunate though it may be, nobody would be expected to neglect the need to preserve his or her own life. It would be on him to help both the Nartaran people and the regional dragon population to get along. It was a challenge he was looking forward to.

The cheers following the Chief's declaration were not quite as enthusiastic. They could not deny how amazingly helpful Berk's dragons were in the battle that was so recentlty won. But dragons had been raiding Nartara for as long as they had been raiding Berk. And in spite of the raids having come to an end within the last couple of years, welcoming the creatures into their community felt foreign to many of them.

"What of our livestock," one of the foremost farmers of Nartara asked, "How do we keep them from being carried off?"

"If I may?" asked Hiccup, looking to Tarina for permission to speak. "Thank you," he said at her nod. "The dragons have more of an interest in fish. They will only carry off livestock for themselves if fish become unavailable. They are not picky. Low-rate fish which ordinarily go to waste or otherwise are tossed back into the sea can be provided to dragons who for whatever reason cannot hunt for themselves. Most will fly out to sea on their own to eat their fill, and you will even sometimes find large fish left on the beach or on the docks by some dragons whom are bonded with people, as a gesture of affection."

The farmer stroked his beared thoughtfully and nodded, "I like fish. How do I bond with a dragon?"

There was scattered laughter from the assemblage, and Hiccup smiled. "That will be up to your First Rider," he said, looking at Jarin.

"First," Jarin said. "We need to finish seeing to the needs of the people. Repairs need to be made and crops and livestock need to be replenished. A few of you will be taught to train dragons to help with these efforts. Once Nartara becomes self sustaining again, anyone with a desire to do so will be welcome to train any dragon who seeks human companionship. A dragon is not a pet. The bond is a very serious thing. If you earn a dragon's trust, he or she will be a willing friend to you. If you bond with a dragon, he or she will be a partner for life. And that dragon will defend you and your loved ones, with its very life if need be."

The crowd began to murmur. This was clearly something way beyond what they had expected, though they clearly had expected something awesome. While the talking was going on, Shadowhorn and Brighteyes had ambled out of the recesses of the Hall and had helped Gurdy and Baelir down from the rafters. The general mood was that because of the prospect of dragons living peacefully among them, the people of Nartara would begin to enjoy greater prosperity than they ever had before. If it could work for Berk, then it could work for them.

After eating their fill, Tarina and Jarin left the Hall with Shadowhorn following almost on their heels. The sky was clear and the sun bright and warm, and a smile spread on Jarin's face.

"What is it, my heart?" Tarina asked, resting her hand on his shoulder.

Jarin reached over and rested his other hand on hers. "I was just thinking that this turned out to be a wonderful first morning for us."

Tarina nodded, "Yes... A wonderful first morning."

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 _Well, there it is. The first chapter in my new story involving my original character, Jarin. I know... I still have "A Ripple in Time" to finish, and I will do so. I just found myself wanting to write about Jarin, Tarina and Shadowhorn again, but they don't have a roll to play in "Ripple." This story follows immediately after "Jarin and the Legacy of Nartara" and starts a few months before the arrival of Oscar Rodgers to Berk in "Ripple." And while the latter story advances through the timeline quickly, this one will be slower paced, with Jarin and Tarina as the lead characters as they guide Nartara to prosperity._

 _It is my hope that you enjoy reading this. Please give your feedback._


	2. Chapter 2

_I neither own nor claim any rights to How To Train Your Dragon..._

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 **Jarin and Tarina:  
A How To Train Your Dragon Spinoff**

 **Chapter 2 – Settling Into Exile**

 _Three days ago..._

Gelbrun rode on the back of his Majestic Flamescale, Brokenclaw who flew straight and true from Nartara to Dragon Island. Just the day before, the former Mad Chief had declared himself in self exile from Nartara on the grounds that the atrocities he had committed against both his people and against dragon-kind could never be forgotten, and that if he stayed, he would be a constant reminder to the people, and they to him, of what he had done. His daughter, now the Chief of Nartara in his place, had accepted his declaration, and in accordance with Nartaran rules of exile, he had left the shores of his homeland the next day, never to return.

He had hoped that leaving would help him ease his mind and come to terms with the mercy and grace the Creator of All had shown him. In a way, it was. He was now free of everything that tied him to who he allowed himself to become. But at the same time, being alone allowed him to think about the choices he had once made that turned him into that monster. Examining himself was as bad, if not worse, than seeing his people and not being able to forget the darkness he had allwed to work within and through him for years. One thing his on father once said shortly after he retired as Chief had stayed with Gelbrun to this day: _No matter how hard you may want to, or try to, you will never be able to escape from yourself._

Gelbrun bowed his head as tears leaked from his eyes. "God help me..."

O O O

Brokenclaw carried his two-legged friend smoothly on the flight to Dragon Island. It was not easy. The man was large, and while he had carried humans before, it was never over such long distances. He was not exhausted, but he decided that he would need to land somewhere before nightfall and then complete the journey the next day after a good night's rest.

It was his human, he sensed, who was carrying the heaviest burden. The man's history was no secret. In fact, he himself was sort of the first victim of the rage the Great Liar had fueled within Gelbrun. He glanced his gnarled claw and remembered the pain of the stone smashing down on it, slammed there by the man he now called "friend." Through the soul-bond he shared with his human, he reached out with his mind to that point where the laws of dragon society said one could go no further. The point where the Behemoth, known to humans as the Red Death delighted in crossing, where commands could be planted in the mind of the target and could not be disobeyed, unless there was some sort of buffer preventing it.

Shadowhorn, who was a victim of terrible cruelty at the order of Gelbrun, crossed that point, but only to _see_ what was in the broken human's heart and mind. To fully understand what drove him to such hatred. The other dragon could have taken control of the man's mind and commanded him to kill himself, and Gelbrun would have done it. But after he had learned that Gelbrun had been a victim of demonic manipulation and was not truly evil in and of himself, and had been freed and reconciled by the Creator of All Himself, Shadowhorn also forgave.

Right here and right now, Brokenclaw was about to take that extra step that Shadowhorn refused to take. He could see in his human's mind all the horrors he had endured and dealt out, and the pain in his soul that was the price. His human could not go on like this. Not in isolation from other humans. And the sorrow radiating from him would not do well for him among the wild dragons he would soon be living among. Brokenclaw was resolved. His human needed this. He pushed his mind through the bond, past the barrier of conscience. But it was not a command he would plant. Just a simple thought consisting of nothing but the the truth and the pure emotion that came with it:

 _I love you... Brother..._

O O O

Gelbrun's eyes widened as feelings of love and well-being exploded within his soul, along with a messages spoken directly into his mind: _I love you... Brother..._ And there was no mystery as to where the though originated. Like when Shadowhorn licked his face in forgiveness, Gelbrun was overwhelmed. He fell forward against Brokenclaw's neck, wrapping his arms around it gently, and broke down crying like a child. "I love you too, my brother," he rasped, over and over, until he drifted off to sleep, confident that Brokenclaw would not let him fall.

He was shaken awake as the sun was setting, still on his dragon's back. They were circling an island dominated by a mountain with an amphitheater-like bowl at its center. It was more or less covered with ice and snow, and seemed to offer insufficient room for settlements. Maybe a small outpost could be built here, but from horizon to horizon, there was nothing else to be seem with the exception of a massive fog bank to the West. This is what traders referred to as Lone Island. Which meant that the fog bank was Helheim's Gate, where Dragon Island existed.

"What is it, my friend?" he asked. Brokenclaw warbled and dropped his draconian gaze to the island below, and Gelbrun understood. "You're right. It's getting late. This is as good a place as any to rest."

They descended and touched down in the center of the mountainous bowl. It was a large, open space, and was sparsely peppered with trees, with plenty of fallen branches for firewood. There didn't seem to be any significant animal life, aside from a few birds nesting in the trees. He couldn't explain it, but Gelbrun couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this place than he could see. But the lack of physical evidence to that feeling caused him to just dismiss it as residual paranoia from the habits of his past.

He climbed down form Brokenclaw's shoulders, stretched, and strode around to face his dragon. "You flew well today, my friend. And now do us both a favor and grab us some fish."

At the mention of fish, Brokenclaw's expression came as close to a smile as a Majestic Flamescale could achieve. The dragon gave a happy warble, bobbed his head, and took to the sky, the light of the setting sun reflecting off the orange, metallic patterns in his side scales, and not for the first time, Gelbrun smiled at how beautiful the creature was. It was an observation he never would have made had he not been free from the Voicces serving the Great Liar.

Gelbrun knelt on both knees, bowed his head, and raised his hands to the heavens, "Blessed are you, Lord God, Creator of All. Thank you for your grace and mercy, and for my friend... my brother... I beg you, let no harm come to him. I ask nothing for myself, for you have already given me more than I ever hoped to receive, and even more than what I deserve. Thank you." He lowered his arms and stood to his feet. He didn't just believe it; he _knew_ his prayer was heard.

Presently, he set about gathering wood for a fire. Brokenclaw would be returning soon with fish, and they would eat and rest well that night. The next day, their travels would take them into the mist of Helheim's Gate and to Dragon Island, and he, Gelbrun, would be settling into exile.


End file.
